Reyn's Journal
by Miranda le Ginger
Summary: The companion piece to Zevran's Journal; from Reyn Cousland's POV
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do **not** own Dragon Age, or any of the characters. I only put my spin on the story, and used my actual Warden character chosen in the game as the character for this. Bioware and EA does.

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Well, I have never had an actual journal before…I was never the type of girl to keep a diary. I was always too busy training with Ser Gilmore and my brother to give a hoot about things that normal girls do. But Wynne had an idea; due to the high risk of our mission and the good chance that one or more of us would fall in the battle to come, she thought it would be a good idea to keep detailed records of our experiences. That way if we died, Ferelden could see our final thoughts and everything we did in order to save them. Leliana and I agreed that it was genius, but the thought of her dying…I just can't think about that.

This has been one hell of a ride so far. I went from being the noble daughter of Teyrn Bryce Cousland and his famously beautiful wife Eleanor, the headstrong nineteen year old who was skilled in the arts of swordplay and diplomacy, into the on-the-run newly initiated Grey Warden fleeing from the place I once called home, leaving my family behind to their death by the hands of Rendon Howe, (former) friend of my fathers.

When Duncan recruited me into the famed Wardens and escaped with me in tow from Highever, I was but a broken shell of my former self. I had witnessed the deaths of people I had called friends, had known my entire life. Nan, dead in the kitchen she loved dearly. The elven servants cut down and desecrated with cruel words carved into their flesh. Orianna and Oren… broken and lifeless on the floor of the room they shared with my brother, blood pooling around them. I had fought furiously to get to my father with my brave mother at my side, picking off Howe's guards with her bow. My home was in flames, in ruin. We finally made it to my father, but his wounds were fatal. He knew that we could not escape with him; it would be a burden. So he elected to stay behind, and my heroic mother stayed by his side. She bought Duncan and I time to escape, at the cost of both their lives.

We traveled to Ostagar, then. I was quiet for most of the journey. My heart was as heavy and cold as stone. Everything I had ever known, my entire life, was cruelly snatched away by one betrayal. My brother Fergus did not even know of the tragedy that had hit the Cousland family. Thoughts and memories assuaged my mind all the way until Ostagar. There, I met King Cailan. He was a handsome man, kind and just. A little too caught up by tales and stories of Wardens and glory, but still a good man. I met other people as well too, and despite my inner suffering I made an effort to get to know them. I would be fighting alongside these people very soon; I wanted to know their names in case they fell, and vice versa. I did not fear death, but I hoped I survived the battle long enough to bring Howe to justice he so richly deserved.

I learned of the Grey Warden's ritual, their secrets. I performed the task entailed to me, and became a full-fledged Warden. Alas, the two men with me did not make it. Ser Jory and Daveth were good men, and I still carry around my Warden's Oath pendant in memory of their loss. On the task I had met Alistair, a former templar-in-training-turned-Warden whose wit and jokes made me feel just a little less bleak. As a new Warden, I was expected to go listen in on the meeting before the attack at Ostagar. King Cailan told us his strategy, which Loghain did not approve of. Loghain, a hero in the eyes of many Fereldens, was a seasoned warrior whose prose in battle was nearly unmatched. He convinced Cailan to attack with the King's contingent and he would have his men await a signal from atop of the Tower of Ishal. Once lit, the light would be the signal for Loghain to attack, and hopefully turn the tide in our favor. The plan was agreed upon, and the task of lighting the beacon fell to Alistair and myself. We, alongside one of the mages and a guard, rushed to the Tower. It had been overrun by Darkspawn, and we cut a bloody path all the way to the Tower's entrance. I remember the restless thrumming of my heart, beating in nervous anticipation. I had hefted the Cousland family sword high, adjusting my shield before we entered the captured tower.

We fought over several floors, killing all Darkspawn that lurked the tower. The place was a mess; dead bodies, both Fereldens and monster, lay strewn everywhere on the ground. Blood covered almost every available surface. Some of the bodies were half-eaten. We finally carved a path to the top, where we encountered our most terrifying and difficult foe yet: an Ogre. Teamwork played a major role in the takedown; once the Ogre was distracted by Alistair, the mage struck it with lightning. I ran forward and leapt atop the gigantic beast, stabbing it with my family's blade. As soon as the body fell, we lit the beacon. We thought we had just saved many lives, and possibly changed the course of the battle. What we would not know until later was we did change the battle…by playing into Loghain's hands.

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The rest, as they say, is history. Alistair and I, along with my faithful Mabari hound Raines, were saved from the Darkspawn by Flementh. We learned of Loghain's betrayal and that very few survivors were left. Among the dead were the King, and Duncan. My heart, already burdened by grief, was staggered by this new revelation. Duncan had been an extraordinary man, and had been nothing but good to me since my parent's murder. And King Cailan…the blow was just too large. Revenge in our hearts, we set off with Flementh's daughter Morrigan and started our journey.

Now, months later, our trio has morphed into a slightly larger group. We now have an assassin, Zevran, who is rather handy to have around. Unfortunately, he does not seem to be able to grasp that, while I enjoy playing with a sword, I most certainly do not like his sword. I am far more taken by another addition to our group. Leliana…the first time I laid eyes on her, I was smitten. Tall, achingly gorgeous, with short red hair and eyes the color of a calm, tranquil lake, she stole my heart without a word. Morrigan, Alistair and I had met her in a little inn in Lothering, before it was sadly overtaken by the murderous Darkspawn. We had been waylaid by a group of men loyal to Loghain, and accused the Grey Wardens of betraying the king. They attacked, and we completely decimated them. I will admit that my intent was to kill them, but Leliana stayed my hand. She told us she was a Chantry sister, seeking solace from her past and finding it in the Maker's light. She spoke of a vision that had told her to join our group and save Ferelden with us. I was a little skeptical, but one look at her earnest blue eyes and I agreed without thinking.

I could not be happier. Leli and I, along the way, fell in love. I know that this journey is extremely important and my focus is direly needed, but my heart cannot forsake my bard. We are now in a relationship, incredibly happy and sated with affection. I need her; I went through betrayal after betrayal, my parent's first and then at Ostagar. Then I was thrown into this whole archdemon mess. Sometimes…sometimes I just want to scream, toss away my sword and shield, and protest. I am nineteen, for Maker's sake! I lost everything that had meaning to me and now I have to slay the archdemon or Ferelden will fall? I feel like everything is spinning, and I cannot make my way through. I have a duty to the Grey Wardens to defeat the archdemon and save Ferelden, but what of my family? I cannot let the bastard Howe get away with this; I won't! Then Loghain…he must be stopped. It pains me to see how far he has fallen, but we cannot defeat the Darkspawn with him at the helm. He must have his control taken away. And then there is Leliana, the love I never knew I would find on this journey…I know she is very capable of protecting herself, but I cannot stop the image of her lying broken and twisted somewhere out of my mind. This is a dangerous thing we Wardens are undertaking…am I leading her to her doom?

Ah…Wynne is calling us for dinner. Better go get my share before Alistair and Raines get to it. Alistair is like my brother, but the man eats like a damn dwarf! I will write again soon, and hopefully stay alive to finish the journal. In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice.

Farewell,

Reyn Cousland

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Author's note: Well, there is the first chapter of Reyn's Journal. I know I have not yet completed Zevran's part, but Reyn would not stop bugging me until I started hers. The Warden is one of my absolute favorite video game characters; she is just so complex. She is torn; torn between duty to her family as a Cousland, the Grey Wardens and their cause, avenging those fallen at Ostagar, Ferelden, and Leliana. She has this enormous burden resting on her young shoulders, and due to her being the leader, it can feel like it is crushing her at times.

Now, she is a far different viewpoint than Zev. Zevran's story was never meant to be very serious or detailed; just humorous. Reyn however, can be summed up with one word: duty. She has her moments of wit, but for the most part you will see her grow into a magnificent leader who protects her friends; her family. She is going to be far more detailed in their exploits than Zev was. Unlike Zevran, who only told of the major events in the search for allies, and even then just touched base, Cousland will go more into depth. She will ponder her actions and the actions of everyone else, and I hope to give her character life in the best way that I can. So, I hope you enjoy the ride with her as much as you did with Zevran!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _Hey everyone! Another chapter from Reyn's POV is up. Now, this is slightly different from the previous entries. For one, it is split. This is half of the total journal entry; hence the reason for Reyn not signing her name at the end. Also, there will be differences between Zev and Reyn's journals. Zev only touched basics; he was mostly comic relief. Reyn will mention events that Zev never even alluded to; a big reason for this is because I did not think them up until I started writing Reyn's journal. The two journals (and the rest that follow) will all add up but is wise to read all the characters' journals. Not only do they show deep character insight and different feelings, but there are certain events that characters deem more important than others. To fully appreciate the entire package, the smaller units need to be read. All right, I have babbled on enough, I think. On with the show! _

Disclaimer: DA: O is **not** my baby. Bioware and EA own the awesomeness. I just grab the players and make them dance.

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Being the leader is both an honor…and a bane. The others can afford a little negligence, depending on the subject matter at hand. I, on the other hand, have to be at my best at all times. I am the one that everyone looks towards when a problem arises, and the one that takes the blame if something goes awry. It can be stressful, knowing you hold the lives of others in your hands and if you don't pay attention, they will get ripped away in a heartbeat. I know this better than anyone.

Today was one such day. We all took a vote and decided that the Dalish would be the first group we gained as allies. Alistair was not entirely happy with this decision as he had really wanted to gain Arl Eamon's favor first. Though I could sense an underlying feeling of relief emanating off of him. He is actually the main reason I pushed the Dalish forward as our first destination. I know of his past with the Arl, and I want to grant him some time to gather his sense before he comes face to face with the man (and woman) from his childhood. However, this was kept as a secret for me and me alone. Alistair agreed to the plan without much prodding, and the journey had officially begun.

On our way, we met many people on the road. Knights, townsfolk; most were refugees. Alistair and I were careful to disguise our Warden marks on our armor and persons. Reports from the traitor Loghain had poisoned the minds of many such people. He sprouted lies about us, saying that we were the betrayers of King Cailan. It filled Alistair and I with rage at the false accusations, and Leliana did not like all the hate he was aiming at Orlais. Yes, our little mismatched group did not think too fondly of the great hero. The only people I despised more than him were Rendon Howe…and myself. I knew it was irrational, but a part of me still believed that I should have died fighting with my parents. If I was present, maybe I could have made the difference needed to save their lives. But I know that is not what my parents wanted, and if I had fallen Alistair would have been alone in the quest against the Blight.

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The way to the Dalish was paved by danger: bandits, Darkspawn, desperate refugees…everyone seemed to want a piece of us. It always confused me; we are a fairly large group, why would any sane person want to fight such able-bodied people? It is a testament to how dire things are in Ferelden. Allies needed to be secured quickly, or our country was doomed. Seeing the vast amount of devastation our beloved world had taken at the hands of the Blight was not a pretty sight. A helpless feeling washed over me; how the hell was a nineteen year old newly recruited Grey Warden with emotional scars supposed to save Ferelden from the archdemon? I know Alistair was just as haunted. Every night we were plagued by visions depicting the evil taint and their demonic leader. It was rare that we slept fitfully. But we shouldered our burden and trudged on.

Finally, on the fifth day of travel, we reached the infamous Brecilian Forest. The forest had a rich history, not much of it pleasant. A war had been fought long ago, between the Tevinter Imperium and the elves. Many were slaughtered, and the untold number of deaths had disrupted the balance between the real world and the Fade. The Veil was ripped, and the lost souls are said to still roam the forest, reliving their deaths and keeping unwanted intruders out. The Dalish did not camp very far in, so we would be relatively safe. We just had to watch out for spiders that nested on the outskirts of the forest. We pushed forward, watching our backs and keeping our bases covered. Alistair and I lead the formation while Sten and Raines protected our rear. Leliana and Zevran took care of the sides, pointing their bows and arrows at every single shadow, intent and watchful. Morrigan and Wynne were protected in the center, hands at the ready to fling magic at any enemies. There were spiders like anticipated; we easily took care of the problem. Pest control at its finest. The tightly formed knot we were moving in was efficient; spider carcasses lay in our wake as we moved inwards. Of course, we ended up running into the only thing that could give us some grief: the spider mom. The queen was not very happy with the deaths of her offspring. I had to throw my shield arm up as the enraged arachnid lunged at me, fangs flashing in the moonlight. The sharp points embedded themselves into the steel, jarring my arm at the raw power of the hit.

Alistair came to the rescue, swinging his sword and yelling at the mad mommy. The spider seemed to roll her eyes, batting him away with one of her eight legs. He let out a whoosh as the air left his lungs momentarily, falling to his knees at the unexpected pain. Leliana and Zev shot her with their arrows; it only angered her more at the sharp pain. It lumbered its way towards my bard, and I saw red. Now, I know that Leli can take care of herself; she is far more capable, and not even close to being helpless. But seeing the spider queen head towards her and knowing that she would definitely be under attack…well, I lost it. With a mighty roar I charged the hapless beast. Starfang hissed as it sliced through the air, connecting with the spider with a satisfying squish. The queen let out her version of a scream, and turned on me. I again lifted my shield, butting her away with it. She recovered far quicker than I had anticipated, and on her next attack I felt her fangs pierce my arm. My arm thrummed with pain; I cried out.

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The pain distracted me enough so that I was virtually helpless against the spider. Thankfully Raines launched himself at the monstrosity, tearing into her with his powerful jaws. Sten swung his greatsword at it, ripping off a couple of its thick appendages. The fallen queen tried to get back up, but I swiftly plunged my blade into her, silencing her forever. I removed my blade, cleaning the gore off on the grass. I looked at my injury. Two holes marred my arm, leaking blood. The area around the holes looked a little red. However, I thought nothing of it. As far as I knew, the thing was not poisonous. So I just brushed off my pain and readied myself for moving out. Leliana asked if I was alright, worriedly trying to examine my wound. I gently kept her at bay, laughing it off. She looked unsure but she accepted my words. Wynne and Morrigan stared at me shrewdly, and made me promise to tell them if I felt anymore pain or if the affected area worsened. Once everything was agreed upon, we continued to the Dalish camp.

I definitely learned something about the Dalish: they do not feel much charity to humans. When we walked into their camp, we were quickly surrounded by angry elves with weapons. The elves that were supposed to be scouting had apparently done their job; they had warned the elves of our presence. I tried for diplomacy, stating that I was a Grey Warden and showing off the griffin symbol on my chest when they showed suspicion. The keeper, Zatharian, was still wary of us but he accepted our words as truth. I talked with him a bit, about the blight and the need for allies in this desperate time. I even flashed the treaties, in the hopes that the long-standing document would be respected. Zatharian sighed; he would have followed our wishes and the words of the treaty, but he was in no state to aid in anything; he could not even save his own people. When I questioned him, he wove a strange and unsettling story. Werewolves had been attacking the Dalish and infecting them with the virus. The bites themselves were painful and the attacks were often brutal. Once bit, the elves would writhe in pain for an untol amount of time while they transitioned. This was code for becoming a werewolf. Sadly, when the elves started to officially change, the keeper had no choice but to put the dogs down. I felt for the elves plight, and we really needed them as allies. But, could we really afford to postpone our mission and save them? Would the deed, though heroic and life-saving, take away too much precious time; time that we did not have?

The thought plagued me, and my moral side clashed with the logical part of me. However, in the end morality won out. I am a Grey Warden, and the job description states that I need to save. I needed allies, and I could not let innocents die while doing nothing to save them. Leliana shot me a proud smile, and the others were down with saving the others…except for Sten and Morrigan. Sten showed some concern over the task; well, as much concern as the Qunari was capable of showing in front of people. He thought it was foolish; after all, one of us could get hurt. But it was not hard to talk him into agreeing. Morrigan was not so easy. She did not want to risk any of our lives on something that might not even work. She had wanted us to go after Loghain immediately, and after his death go find allies. The rest were appalled by her apparent lack of compassion. I did not believe it for a second though. Morrigan's childhood was not exactly sunshine and love; Flementh could not have been a great mother, or a great influence. She was not really untouched by the elves plight; she was just looking at the big picture. I could not fault her for her logic, but I had to follow my heart. I told her this, and she finally agreed to go though she was displeased.

Zatharian looked grateful for our help. He told us the basics of what we needed to know; Lanaya, his "first", told us the details. There was something in Zatharian's eyes, however, that gave me pause. Some of his story just did not sound right to me, and I got the distinct impression that there was more to the story than we were being told. Still, I put it in the back of my mind. He would not catch me off guard, but I had lives to save. Such is the duty of a Warden. Among the task of killing Witherfang to save the infected elves, we were asked to gather some ironbark for the master craftsman, Varathorn. If we brought enough, he would make us something with the sturdy wood. Another elf, named Athras, recited a tragic tale with a hopefully happy ending, if we were able to find out whether his wife lived or was truly a werewolf. He believed that the keeper had lied to him and his wife had indeed transformed. He begged me to find anything out about her condition and tell him; of course I could not refuse. With the three tasks in mind, we readied ourselves to enter the inner sanctum of the haunted forest.

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Let me tell you, werewolves are not as cute and cuddly as their nicer, man's-best-friend counterparts. As soon as we walked through the first few trees (yes, they really don't play around), we were blocked by a small band of the furry beasts. The leader, called Swiftrunner, basically growled out an ultimatum; either leave and tell Zatharian we failed, or press on and we would basically be slaughtered like sleep. Yes, I thought it was lovely, too. I was polite with him and tried to defuse the situation, but apparently diplomacy and manners don't really mater when you have a disease that causes you to become a giant dog with anger issues. So I finally flat out told him I intended to kill Witherfang. So, in a rage, he and his buddies attacked us. Swiftrunner himself charged at me; leader vs. leader. I dodged his claws and threw my shield at him. The metal connected with his shoulder; he let out a howl of pain. I swung my blade at him but he sidestepped the blow. One paw shot out and his claws grazed my arm. Blood dripped down my arm, I could feel the heat as it rolled down and stained the grass. I swung out again and managed to clip his side, leaving a shallow cut. He bared his fangs at me and ran backwards. He stopped a few feet away and howled at his men, signaling the retreat. Before he left, he warned me that this was not over. If we continued to proceed, we would fall.

Leliana rushed over, checking me for injuries. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw how insignificant the cut was, but gasped as she saw my other arm. I was confused at her look of horror, before it dawned on me that she was looking at my spider bite. I glanced down and the sight I saw before me filled me with dread. The bite, once two little puncture wounds, had expanded wider. The skin was puffed up and small streams of pus streamed down, mixing with the blood from the werewolf cut. _How the hell did this happen,_ I thought. This did not look like this an hour ago! Leli called Wynne over frantically, eyes panicked. The older mage rushed over, grasping my arm gently and examining it. Her face paled at the sight before her. The others gathered around the three of us, staring at the wound on my arm. My love asked Wynne what was happening to the bite, and the look on Wynne's face made my blood run cold. She opened her mouth, a soft exclamation coming out. She closed it again, clearing her throat loudly. Her eyes met mine; the fear was apparent in her gaze. She told me that the spider bite was poisonous, but not like any other poison she had seen. She basically said that the poison that had been injected in me was almost incurable; the only known cure for the rare occurrence was a certain chemical that could only be found in specific animals. Horses, a few species of birds…dogs. Some of their DNA mixed in with the bite would counteract the poison, saving my life. I needed either saliva or…defecation. We all know which one I picked, I believe. The search for the werewolves was now even more urgent than anticipated. If I did not find Witherfang, not only would countless elves change or die, I would also be food for the crows…or Darkspawn. My life just keeps getting better and better….

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Note: There is a clue somewhere in this story over the fate of our beloved Warden at the end of the final battle. I have made my decision; it is final and will be happening. Though Reyn's fate will be shown in Zevran's journal before this one. **If you figure out the secret, please do not spoil it for others**. Keep it to yourself, or PM me what you think. Again, **please think of the other readers and do not speak out**. Thank you all again, and see you soon!


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